I Pray
by criesofthefallen
Summary: Their lifes were cold, lonely, and full of fear. They were alone, their prayers unheard. The gods decided something had to be done, these were the five of legend. Only together could they heal. Only together can they bring forth a new dawn.


I own nothing. There will be angst, implied and snaps of rape, violence, language, etc. slash, het…don't like? Click on that little bottom on top left hand corner of pg and we'll all be happy!! On with the story!

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Life isn't fair.

It wasn't meant to be fair. It was meant to be equal. To look beyond skin color, language, and habits. It treats us all the same, no bribes, no sort of status, no matter how much money you or you parents have, life distributes its burdens equally and without guilt.

What about them? The ones who have it good?

Do they really? They bleed like we do, cry like we do, does anyone really have it good? I don't know , maybe there's someone out there who's never bled, who has never cried, who has never loved and lost, to life itself, or death.

Death.

Death is vastly over-rated, not because of the pain or loosing a loved one. Not because we fear the unknown. **B**ut because people make such a big deal about dying. I don't understand this phobia of dying, we all will eventually. I suppose its just another thing we all blame life for.

Blame.

I do that a lot, and you do too. We all blame people because we fear being scorned, ridiculed, etc.

Fear.

I was not born knowing fear, I was taught fear. I was not born knowing hate, but I was taught to hate, long before I could walk. I was not born knowing disgust, it was shown to me.

So what meaning do these words carry? Wisdom? No, I don't believe so. I just believe this is truth. But I do not the thoughts of others, my perception of right can be seen by them as wrong.

Us? Them? Aren't we all the same? Different believes, same goal. We all believe in right and wrong, in what is and what should be. But is that enough? Is living the life we were taught to live, enough? Is it? I can not differentiate between what is lie and what is true any longer. He will use that against me. I know this as well as I know all other things. Not the best comparison, is it? Not really, my reality wanes so very often.

I'm rambling, its what I do. It annoys him greatly. I've taught myself to be annoying, just so he'll look at me, if only for a few precious moments. I know this is stupid, and it tends to end in pain, but I'm still starved. I'm so hungry, so ravenous. I need love so badly. Its messed up my natural mental growth.

'You think too much like and adult. Don't, you annoying chit.'

I'm seven today, and he just said this, its true I know, but its his fault. His fault.

_His fault._

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He looked longingly at the presents by the tree. Hoping and praying he had been good enough this year to deserve one. He was a bad boy, and he needed discipline, but oh how he wanted a present. Even better, food. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had any. He hoped he had been good enough. He knew he was unworthy and that he deserved everything he got but he wanted one. Just one.

The rags on his body barely kept him warm, looking in from the outside sitting in the harsh cold and soaking wet he allowed himself to hope. The cuts and bruises all over his body bled more than was normal, covering old and new scars. The chains around his wrists hurt a bi too, but if he didn't complain maybe, maybe…

Oh how he _hoped…_

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She lay on the bed curled into herself. She felt so dirty, so unclean. She felt so hopeless and alone. She was naked in a big bed next to a man. She didn't remember how she got there, but she remembered what had happened a few hours ago. She got up carefully, making no noise and watching the man. He scared her, and made her feel like a bad girl. She picked up her clothes and tried the door. She felt panic start to rise but told herself to stop. She stood still, paralyzed with fear as she heard the bed squeaked. She stayed like that for a few minutes. Turning slowly she almost cried in happiness when she saw the big man asleep.

She looked around the room but found no key. Checking the mans wallet she found nothing. She stayed on the floor then, silent tears pouring down her small face. She cried because she ached, she cried because she was scared, _she cried because she was alone_…

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He lay on the cold ground watching the rain fall. It was so pretty. He wished he could b like rain, going from place to place, seeing new thing and just being free. Like a bird. He wanted to go away, far-far away, but he couldn't. his body hurt right now an he had to keep still. Daddy said if he moved he would get more ouchies. He didn't want more ouchies. He shivered as he felt the bitter cold begin to creep onto his skin. The rags he wore barely covered his almost skeletal frame.

He whimpered as he heard more screams come from inside. He wished his mommy could take them away. Like using magic. Magic made him all better. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep, _sleep_…

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He glared stubbornly at the wall behind his mother, ignoring for a few moments what he knew was bound to happen. The burning in his back increased and he knew he had pushed his luck. Saying goodnight he went upstairs to his room. Undressing numbly he stiffened as he felt those cold hands on his body, touching as they always did. He closed his eyes and tried as always to block out any sensation, but those lips always froze him to the core…closing his eyes he obeyed the silent command and dropped to his knees….

Hours later he stood in the shower scraping at his skin until it bled…walking back into his room he choose the corner farthest away from his nightmare and tried to sleep. He wished someone would save him, but he knew no one would, _no one…_

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He hid in the shadows forcing himself not to whimper. So much self control in a child should be impossible, but such treatment of a child should also be impossible, should be. He knew he would be in trouble for being disobedient, but he was scared of what they would do to him this time. He was nothing special, and that was his problem. Nothing he did was ever good enough. He didn't even have a name, not one he could be called by and he wouldn't tarnish. He wished he could be anyone else, because everyone else was happy. He wanted someone to love him, just like before his parents. Everyone blamed him for their parents dying, and they were right.

If he couldn't do anything right then it was his fault. Everything was his fault.

_Everything…_

88888888888888 to be continued???

How is this story guys? I hope you guys like it! I know I haven't been updating but between moving, school, soccer, and homework I've been busy. Plus I had no internet! Any who, anyone want to be my beta reader? Suggestions for any body? Please let me know if your interested!

Thanx 4 reading!

CriesOfTheFallen


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